


Drabbles

by orphan_account



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabbles, F/F, Tumblr Prompt, collection, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 11,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5369783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically a collection of the jessica x trish prompts I get sent on my tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Christmas gifts

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this one was - Prompt: Jessica gives Trish a special Christmas present

Jessica comes home in a shower of snow. The cold flakes sit in her eyelashes, collect in the collar of her coat and adorn her dark hair like an icy crown. Trish watches from beside the fire as Jessica slams the door, placing her shopping on the floor and throwing the coat down too, looking as grumpy as ever before she storms over to Trish. “Where is Dorothy?”

“Out.” Trish smiles lightly. The fire crackles, amber and warm and illuminating up her stomach as she stretches out on the floor. Her hair is tied up loosely, and for the first time in months, her face looks worry free. She’s just Trish, comfortable and warm on her seventeenth Christmas Eve. “She’s not coming back until boxing day.”

“Why?” Jessica scowls.

“Because she had to do something?” Trish sighs. “I don’t know Jess I stopped listening to her a long time ago. You must me freezing from the snow.” Grinning she opens her arms, inviting Jessica in for a hug. “Come and join me.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jessica ignores the suggestion. “I got you your Christmas present.”

“Glad to hear it.” Trish shuts her eyes, letting the warmth of the fire wash over her, glowing golden through her bloodstream. Faintly, she hears Jessica walk away from her, rustling around in the bag she placed down on the floor as she walked in.

“Do you want to see it?” Jessica’s voice drifts into her haven, it’s not exactly unwelcome.

Trish hums, keeping her eyes shut. “It’s only Christmas eve.”

“Come on.” Jessica walks closer again and Trish doesn’t have to open her eyes to know that she smiling. She’s got this lilt to her voice, the one that means her lips are crooked on her face as she jokes and her eyes twinkle with that indescribable look that she saves only for Trish. “A little rebellion never hurt.”

“Fine.” Trish doesn’t make any effort to move from where she lies. “Bring it to me.” She smiles.

“Open your eyes.” Jessica’s voice has changed, more like a nervous whisper then the cocksure gloat from before.

Slowly, Trish opens her eyes to see Jessica crouching in front of her, a tiny smile floating across her face as she holds out mistletoe in between them. “Merry Christmas Trish.”

Eyeing the mistletoe, Trish lets realisation sink in before grinning at the sight before her. Jessica shifts nervously, her cheeks still red from the cold outside and pinching the mistletoe softly. Trish glances at her lips, redder than her cold pinched cheeks and so inviting. Smiling she leans up to Jessica, kissing her softly. Jessica drops the mistletoe in favour of holding onto Trish’s waist. They’re at an awkward angle, Trish lying on the floor as Jessica lowers herself into a sitting position so that Trish is practically on her lap, but it works.

Although Trish led into the kiss, Jessica follows it back with the lust of an adventurer, as if Trish is what she had been working towards her whole life. She slides her tongue gently between Trish’s lips, her hands clamping down just a little bit harder at Trish’s shirt.

Gently, Trish pulls back, smiling euphorically. “That was a nice present.”

Jessica grins back, leaning so that her back touches the sofa. The mistletoe lies forgotten on the ground. “I’m glad you liked it.”


	2. Never been kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - write some sort of fic of Trish worrying about not getting her first kiss by her 16th birthday (it's supposed to be a bad omen) and Jessica kissing her?

Dorothy Walker is pulled back. Everything about her is clipped, her hair is curled to the last strand, her teeth artificially whitened, the skin on her face stretched and worked until she no longer resembles anything that she could’ve been, and only what she turned herself into: a fake monster.

A least that’s what Trish, on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, screams down the white painted hallway.

Jessica watches from the crack in the door of the bathroom, light flooding in a line to her eyes as she listens intently to the women practising who can scream the loudest as if it’s all a competition. The bathroom is cold, the white tiled floor sending shivers up Jessica’s legs as she stands, bare footed, a jar of pills clamped in her pale fingers and she watches Trish’s life become more and more doomed with every high pitched word from Dorothy.

Sighing, she slumps back, staring at the sink that no one ever bothered to fix. It sits behind closed doors, a hidden reminder that Dorothy is fake and that, by her definition, if you can’t see it, it doesn’t matter. That’s why Trish’s bruises don’t matter, that’s why Jessica’s feelings don’t matter, that’s why the only goddamn thing that matters is whether Dorothy has all her makeup on before she leaves the house.

It’s complicated.

Jessica waits for the inevitable shout that will end the argument for today, or at least for the hour, like someone would wait for the train to their job, surely and patiently and more out of routine then wanting to go anywhere. She hears it, a screeched. “You should start behaving more like an adult Patricia! For god’s sake you’re almost sixteen!”

Followed by a “Maybe then you should stop treating me like a child. I’m not going!” before Trish enters the bathroom like a thunderstorm, slamming the door behind her in a clap across the swollen grey sky.

She acknowledges Jessica with a glance before bee lining straight to the cupboard above the sink, with furious shaking hands and tears running down her face. She fumbles messily, cluttering and knocking over the five different types of floss her mom uses. “Where are my god damn-?” She stops. Takes a breath. Jessica watches her shoulder rise methodically. “Jess.”

“What?” Jessica tries to act innocent, sitting on the bathtub with the yellow pill bottle clutched behind her back.

“Give me my pills.” Turning around, Trish holds out her hand expectantly.

Slowly but deliberately, Jessica shakes her head.

Trish pouts, stomping her foot on the ground. “Give them to me, Jess please.” She goes for a low blow. “I  _need_ them. I thought you wanted to be my hero.”

“I am.” Jessica whispers. The two syllables resonate around the bathroom for a minute before Trish slides to the ground, resting her head against the remnants of the sink and Jessica thinks the sink looks brand new in comparison to what is left of Trish Walker. Slowly, she slips off the bathtub onto the ground opposite Trish. “What’s up?” It’s a stupid question.

“It’s just.” Trish sniffs, wiping her nose. “My mom keeps on pushing me to go to these fancy parties and events because ‘my fame will run out if I disappear and then what would I be’.” Bitterly, she laughs, tilting her head back so it rests against the porcelain and muttering. “More like her money will run out.”

“Trish.” Jess smiles weakly. “We’ll get out, okay.”

“It’s not enough.” Shaking her head, Trish squeezes her eyes together, trying to blink away the forming tears. She takes a deep breath. “There’s two years until we can go. Tomorrow’s my sixteenth birthday and my mom wants me to go to a public event to show off how mature I’m getting. She said she wants men to look at me and be reminded that if they stay my fan for just two more years they can fantasize all they want after that.”

“That’s awful.” Jessica is shocked, but she feels like she shouldn’t be. Dorothy would do anything for fame, hell Jessica wouldn’t be surprised if Trish was sold out to a prostitution ring. Not that she would ever let that happen.

“Yep.” Trish smiles wistfully. “You know girls in our year are having sweet sixteen parties, wearing fancy dresses and inviting their friends over and drinking fucking champagne followed by whatever cheap liquor they can find, just generally having a good time. And I,” She laughs. “I’m going to a posh meet up to be ogled at by married fifty year old men when I have never even kissed anyone.”

“Do you want to?” Jessica feels courage roar up in her veins slowly.

“What.” Looking up, shock passes across Trish’s face.

“I said,” Jessica shifts closer slightly, her heart beating rapidly in her veins as she does. “Do you want to? Kiss someone, I mean. Apparently, it’s bad luck to reach sixteen without a kiss.”

“With you?” Trish lifts her head from where it’s resting against the sink, letting the words roll around her brain as she ponders. “Okay. I mean, I trust you more than any stupid boy.”

“Damn right.” Jessica smiles, glancing down a Trish’s lips. “Alright, close your eyes.”

“Why?” Trish does it anyway, looking slightly confused.

“Because,” Jessica answers, moving forwards so that she’s kneeling in front of Trish. “It has to be special. Because you deserve that. You are the most wonderful person ever, and I never deserved you.”

A faint smile drifts onto Trish’s lips at the words and Jessica feels her heart beating in her throat as she watches the movements of Trish’s lips across her face like it’s a powerful ballet. Leaning down, Jessica softly paces their lips together, snaking her hand around the back of Trish’s neck as she does. Slowly, she pulls away. Trish’s eyes stay shut, her lips slightly parted.

Jessica hugs her, feeling Trish’s arms wraps tightly around her in response. “Happy birthday Trish.”


	3. Gals being pals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trishica//"we sleep in the same bed and wear eachother's clothes and spoon and go on dinner dates. I think we're dating???"

The alarm beeps softly into the blurry morning, darkness curling around the high pitched mechanical beeping, as it pierces the carefully constructed blanket of sleep. Opening her eyes, Trish yawns, her lips dryly cracking at the edges as her mouth stretches, and leans over, hands longing for the snooze button.

“No.” Jessica rolls over next to her, shifting so that her legs lie across Trish, heavy and warm as she claws at the duvet, bringing it up over her head.

“Jess?” Trish whispers. “I have to go to work.”

No response. Quietly, Trish sneaks her hands to the edge of the covers, pausing for a few seconds before ripping them away. Startled, Jessica curls up into a ball. Her dark hair is mussed as she tucks her head in-between her arms, her t-shirt riding up. “No.”

Sighing, Trish rubs her eyes, kicking her legs off the bed so that she’s in a sitting position. “Want any breakfast?”

Jessica mumbles grumpily.

Smiling, Trish stands up, tucking the covers back over Jessica. “I’ll just make you coffee.”

*

After she’s changed into her work clothes, Trish leans against the smooth stone counter waiting for the coffee to brew. She has her hair up, pulled into a ponytail which tickles the back of her neck as she looks down to find a teaspoon. Her blazer crumples like paper as she stretches to pull two mugs out of a cupboard above her, pulling them down next to the now brewed coffee pot.

Two warm arms wrap around her waist and Trish grins. “Been working on your ninja skills?”

“Something like that.” Jessica’s voice is distorted by the morning, but she attempts a smile as Trish glances around to look at her. “The smell of coffee called to me.”

“And here I was thinking you just wanted to be close to me.” Trish jokes, pouring the coffee and handing one mug to Jessica.

Narrowing her eyes, Jessica smirks. She hasn’t bothered to throw on her jeans like she usually does each morning, and her shirt falls in contrast to the pale skin of her legs. “If you didn’t work so early maybe I would.” She takes a gulp of coffee.

Checking her watch, Trish sighs. “I have to go. We still on for dinner?”

Jess smiles, her eyes crinkling slightly as her lips stretch across her face. “Counting on it. Bye.” She kisses Trish gently on the cheek, and Trish smiles back before leaving quietly through the front door.

*

Trish waits outside the restaurant that her and Jess frequently visit. The city is cold, the winter sun having given up about half an hour ago, and a soft breeze blows the strands of hair that have fallen free of Trish’s ponytail throughout the day. She shifts her weight, her face illuminating different colours as cars drive by, waiting hopefully for Jessica.

It’s a funny feeling, she knows Jessica will show up, like she always does, but Trish still gets this weird paranoia, like her heart can’t properly beat until Jessica is by her side.

It’s probably because they spend so much time together. If her life were a poem, Jessica would be every rhyme, every off beat syllable, and she would be woven so deeply into the stanzas like a hidden message that your English teacher makes you write an essay about when you’re in high school. Jessica is what Trish boils down to, they share a bed, a house, food, and time, and jokes. It’s almost like they’re dating.

Which would be ridiculous.

Wouldn’t it?

Thinking back to the morning, Trish can feel the ghost of Jessica’s lips on her cheek. Jessica is always there, next to the freshly brewed coffee, in the crumpled blankets, written across the newspaper and embedded like the sand in Trish’s shoes from the last time they went to the beach together. She can’t imagine a life without her, her, but they’re not dating.

Though they could be.

“Hey.” Jessica startles Trish out of her thoughts. “Why are you waiting out in the cold?”

“Oh uh.” Trish shakes any thought out of her head, focusing on Jessica in the blur of the city like an artsy photo. “I was waiting for you, it’s quite busy.”

“Well I’m here and I’m starving.” Jessica eats. “Let’s go eat.”

As Jessica turns to enter the restaurant, Trish automatically reaches out and stops her by the sleeve of her leather jacket. “Wait Jess.” Trish has always been practical, she knows that there’s no point in letting thoughts grow in her head until they leak out at the worst times.

“What.” Jessica turns, her smile fading at the serious expression on Trish’s face. “What?”

“Are-” Trish frowns, her brow furrowing slightly. “Are we dating?”

A few moments pass where everything all seems to stop; the well-dressed waiters slow around polished tables with halted customers and the sounds of cars fade out as Jessica looks at Trish. Slowly, her face breaks into a smile, and she starts laughing. “Are you being serious?”

Flushing, Trish shoves her hands together in embarrassment. “Well, you don’t have to be so rude about it.”

“No.” Jessica steps forwards. “It’s just, I thought that you thought we were so I just went with it.”

“You mean,” Trish looks up. “You want to be dating?”

“I may like you as more than a best friend.” Jessica smiles sheepishly.

“Jess.” Trish smiles. “You should’ve said something.”

“I didn’t tell you because I’m not too good at… all that stuff.”

“Good thing you have me then.” Trish jokes.

“Yeah.” Jessica steps forwards, taking Trish’s hand. Slowly she leans forwards, the breeze blowing her dark hair into her face slightly, and kisses Trish’s cheek, grinning as she pulls back. “Good thing I have you.”


	4. I'll always care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trishica: Trish hates how reckless Jessica is when she's drunk

“It was fine.” Jessica slurs her word like the lights of a passing train and flops her hand about as she speaks. “I barely scraped myself.”

“That doesn’t mean you should be ‘testing how tall a building has to be before you die’.” Trish is angry, spitting poison as she wrings out a cloth too tightly.

“Not die.” Jessica yawns, wincing as Trish places the cloth on the red angry scrape running down her right arm, where the pavement stole her skin. “Just, whatever.”

“Not whatever Jess. You could’ve seriously hurt yourself.” Trish presses her hands down on the cloth, glaring at Jessica.

“So?” It could just be the alcohol in Jessica’s system, making her act a certain way, seem dead behind the eyes as she looks straight at Trish, hollow and exhausted, but Trish isn’t going to fool herself into thinking that the tone of self-deprecation is completely stimulated.

“Jess.” Trish sighs, the anger dissipated as she sits next where Jessica is lying on her sofa. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes I do.” Jessica’s tone is petulant, her lip jutted out like a child as if she’s about to cross her arms and stomp her foot on the ground. “No one would care.”

Collapsing at the shattering wobble on the ‘care’, Trish’s heart beats faster, and she swallows the sudden lump in her throat. “ _I_ would.”

Softening, Jessica looks up, her eyebrows slightly raised. Slowly, she opens her arms. “I know, I’m sorry. Come here.”

Sniffing, Trish hesitantly moves forwards, so that Jessica is holding her in the dark and whispering. “I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t care.”

Kissing Jessica’s hands softly, Trish swallows. “I’ll always care.”


	5. The green eyed monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jess x trish (relationship) - trish is extremely jealous of anyone who hits on jessica and has to show them that she is, in fact, taken.

“Hey sexy lady.” The guy is drunk, inebriated to the point where he can’t tell a pint glass apart from the polished wooden bar and everything that comes out of his mouth is douchey. Or that could just be his personality.

Ignoring him, Jessica grabs the bartender’s attention. “Um, hey can I have two-”

“Don’t listen to her.” The man waves his bloated hand in between the bartender’s face and Jessica’s, causing her nose to wrinkle slightly in revulsion. His words are slurring together like a slowed down tape. “I’ll buy her a drink.” He grins nastily. “And maybe  _she_ could give me something in return…”

Rolling her eyes, Jessica feels annoyance flood through her body and she tenses, turning around to face the still grinning man. Just as she’s about to punch him, or do something else she might regret, a gentle arm slips around her shoulder. “Babe, you alright?”

Trish is relaxing, comfortable and calming and Jessica leans back into her touch, soothing herself to the sound of her voice and breathing in the familiar flowery perfume. “Better now that you’re here.”

The guy smiles dumbly, eyes flickering between them as if he’s just been told he’s won a trip to Iceland. “You have a friend.” He points out, wearing the same expression as someone trying to figure out a math’s puzzle. “…A hot friend.”

Trish raises her eyebrows.

Thinking really hard for a few seconds, the guy finally makes the suggestion that Jessica saw coming from a mile off. “Why don’t you  _both_ join me?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m taken.” Trish quickly shoots him down, smiling at Jessica.

“Aww that sucks, we could’ve had a lot of fun.” The guy whines, before turning to Jessica. “You?”

Not moving her eyes from Trish’s, Jessica replies. “Taken.”

“What? Is your boyfriend here?” The man isn’t giving up.

Sighing, Trish leans down and places her lips on Jessica’s. The kiss is gentle and Jessica returns it softly, not wanting to give the man too much of a show.

Slowly breaking away, Trish smirks at the agape expression plastered onto the man’s face. “Does that answer your question?”


	6. Lesbian propaganda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trishica prompt or drabble: Jessica and Trish go public with their relationship and get a laugh out of how obsessed the media is over Trish's sexuality

If there’s one thing Trish was taught by her mother, it was how the media works. When she thinks about it, actually, the media and her mother had a lot in common; they control her life, put lies in her head and slowly gag her with thick, bruising fingers.

So, in the incredibly rare moments when Trish actually tells the press something, they scramble over each other, fighting and scratching to be the first one to their Trish Walker goldmine, after all, exciting stories mean money, and money - well that means everything.

“You know.” Jessica speaks from where she is lying on the couch, laptops perched uncomfortably on her chest and face illuminated in the glow of the screen. “We probably should’ve kept this to ourselves.”

Chopping vegetables, Trish hums in response, watching carefully as her hand moves, machine like, slicing through carrot after carrot. “I don’t want to have to hide you.”

“That’s sweet.” Jessica says bluntly, her voice straining only slightly as she sits up. Her clothes are crumpled, hair messy, and she places the laptop on the shiny glass coffee table. Moving towards Trish, she wraps her arm around her waist and rests her head on her shoulder. “So, what are we making?”

“ _I,_ ” Trish exaggerates. “Am making bolognaise sauce. And you,” She leans back, tilting her face so that she can place a soft kiss on Jessica’s lips. “Can have some if you want.”

“I  _do_ want.” Jessica pulls out her phone, glancing at the news pages and sighing. “They won’t stop.”

“Let me look.” Turning around, Trish wipes her hands on her black jeans before grabbing Jessica’s phone off her. Eyebrows shooting upwards, Trish reads. “’ _Patsy Walker, the vagina explorer.’_ Are they even allowed to write that?!”

“I know right?” Jessica smirks, hopping up onto the countertop. “It’s not even a full rhyme.”

“Okay.” Trish laughs. “This one’s funny.  _‘Trish Talks turns out to be more lesbian propaganda’._ Who even writes these headlines?”

“I don’t know, but I feel like it’s a job I’d love.” Jessica chuckles. “Read the next one.”

Scrolling through Jessica’s phone, Trish scours for the next funny headline she can see. “It’s amazing how invested they are. They care more about my sexuality then I do.”

“It’s because you’re so pretty.” Jessica drawls, from where she is sat atop the counter, silhouetted in front of the window.

Glancing up from the phone, Trish smiles. “Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh,” Jessica jumps down from the side, into Trish’s space. “I think you’re positively gorgeous.”

“Hmm.” Trish’s eyes flicker to Jessica’s lips and she breathes out slowly. “Why don’t you prove it?”

The phone is forgotten about fast enough.


	7. Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trissica: Jessica and Trish have been trying for a baby and Trish breaks the good news to Jessica

“ _Jessica you have to get here immediately.”_ Trish’s voice crackles through the phone, electronic and urgent as Jessica holds the device up to her ear.

“Trish?! Are you okay?” Turning around, Jessica jogs back in the direction she came from, her feet pounding to the sound of her heart.

“ _Just get here!”_ Trish demands, and if she didn’t sound so pressing Jessica would’ve probably rolled her eyes and called it ‘nagging’, but she does. She sounds panicky and in need and Jessica can’t help but let her mind jump to the worst conclusions as she melts grey concrete into an alarmed blur, as if all the buildings have been smudged sideways with a palette knife.

She’s panting by the time she reaches the apartment, doubled over at the doorway and buzzing the bell before she realises that, if Trish is hurt, then she won’t be able to answer. And the panic comes back, creeping up her chest and into her lungs, filling her throat with thick, black cement until she can barely breathe.

The door opens then, as Jessica is about to keel over, revealing Trish, looking perfectly healthy but slightly confused. “Jess?”

“Trish.” Standing up, Jess gasps out the name as if it’s her only source of air. “You’re okay.”

“Yeah.” The furrow in Trish’s brow grows deeper. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You sounded really urgent on the phone.” Jessica explains, as if it was obvious.

Pausing for a moment, Trish lets her face break into a smile. “Oh yeah, well it was a good urgent.”

“What do you mean a good urgent!?” Jessica cries. “I ran all the way here, I was so worried about you Trish, what could possibly be a good enough urgent that I-”

“Jess.” Trish cuts off Jessica’s ramble. “I’m pregnant.”

Dumbfounded, Jess lets her mouth fall open. “What?”

“Yeah.” Tears spring to Trish’s eyes as she nods. “I called you as soon as I found out.”

“I- we.” Jess points between them, her voice cracking slightly. “We’re having a baby?”

“Yes.” Trish confirms again, moving forwards and wrapping her arms around Jessica. “We’re having a baby.”

“Oh my god.” Jessica smiles, her heart still thudding from earlier. Slowly her smile turns into a smirk. “You made me panic, I get to name them.”

“What?” Trish scoffs, but Jessica is already walking through the apartment door.


	8. Do the goddamn dishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write something where trish and jess are like making out and trish is grinding on Jess' lap?? Maybe?

“Do the dishes!” Trish’s tone is demanding, and Jessica turns with one eyebrow raised to view the pile of dirty plates stacked by the reflective metal sink.

“Never.” Dramatically, she holds a hand across her forehead, smiling as she jokes. “Year after year we mortals have been tormented by the dishes, and I say no more!” Trish looks bemused dipping her hand into the hot water of the sink as Jessica continues. “No more scrubbing! No more dish soap! No more s-”

Cutting Jessica off, Trish throws a handful of foam at her.

“Hey!” Jessica scowls, wiping the foam off her face.

It happens suddenly, one minute Trish is ginning like the cat who got the cream, so to speak, her hands folded innocently behind her back whilst her eyes notice the flush speed up Jessica’s cheeks, and the next minute she’s in Jessica space.

Jessica impulsively leans forwards, glancing down at Trish’s lips through the static air. Moving her head back, Trish lets a teasing grin dance across her face as she shakes her head slightly, before leaning in herself, pressing their lips together so that Jessica can feel her smile.

All Jessica can smell is Trish’s perfume, expensive and flowery and clouding her judgement as she lets Trish take control. Wrapping her hands around Trish’s waist, Jessica pushes back into the kiss, attempting to gain back some of the dignity Trish took with a flirtatious glance and a talented tongue. Roughly, Trish pushes Jessica back until her calves hit the wooden edge of a kitchen chair, causing her to slump down onto the seat and break away from the kiss in a daze. She glances upwards, mouth agape and more turned on then she’d ever admit. “What…?”

Trish is all turned up lips and powerful posture. Her blonde hair falls in strands onto her face and everything slows as Jessica thinks that she’s beautiful.

But then Trish is straddling Jessica’s lap and everything speeds up again. Jessica’s heartbeat echoes as if her head is a cave and she can feel the blood rush to her face as Trish bends down to kiss the side of her neck. Hesitantly, as if she is worried Trish might break, Jessica moves her hands around to hold Trish’s waist.

Re-connecting their mouths, Trish sucks on Jessica’s bottom lip, softly biting it before pulling away again. Jessica leans forwards, hands gripping, having lost all hesitation as she aches for Trish’s lips back on hers. Gently, Trish rocks her hips forwards.

The affect is weakening. Jessica feels her insides turn to jelly, as a sickly warmth travels under her skin, making her gasp out. Trish must hear it, because she smiles and rocks her hips again, this time pressing her mouth once more to Jessica’s to swallow the small sounds that are escaping her mouth like fireworks.

Hungrily, Jessica kisses back, pulling Trish as close as she can to her, feeling the warmth of their bodies intermingled. Suddenly, Trish pulls back, and all the warmth goes as if it was sucked away into a vacuum. “What?” Confused and aroused, Jessica furrows her brow and Trish’s retreating figure.

Grinning wickedly, Trish brushes herself off, before leaning down next to Jessica’s ear and whispering. “Do the goddamn dishes.”


	9. The one where Jessica doesn't wash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Jessica comes back late at night with blood all over her shirt and a lot of bruises and cuts but is exhausted to change or shower, so she just lays down next to Trish and Trish wakes up and freaks out because BLOOD.

Watching through half lidded eyes, Jessica glares at the criminal being shoved into the police car and feels a strange sense of finality. Tiredness rains down her brain like wallpaper, scratching at her skull and she aches everywhere. Her bones hurt, and she’s pretty sure she got stabbed a couple of times, but she sees the family crying and hugging each other like lifelines and feels like maybe Trish had a point about all this hero stuff.

It’s exhausting though.

A police officer steps over to her. She’s young, smiling sheepishly under her hat which falls clumsily over her wild afro of hair. “You should probably see a doctor.” She says, and her voice is stronger than her body language.

“It’ll be fine.” Fatigue stretches its warm fingers over Jessica’s body as she waves off the officer’s suggestion. “I just needs some sleep.” Proving her point, a shattering yawn rattles through her body.

“Okay ma’am.” The officer shrugs. “You should probably clean up at least, wouldn’t want any of those cuts to get infected.”

“Thank you for your concern.” Turning around, Jessica begins to limp, somewhat in the direction of Trish’s apartment.

It’s around eleven o clock when Jessica gets back, and that’s not late but the apartment is quiet and dark so she assumes that Trish is either out or asleep. Outside the city blurs into one faint light, as Jessica drags her body over to the bedroom, tiredness leaking out of every step she takes. Her eyes hurt from being open and her brain aches with every second she stays awake. Sighing as she enters the bedroom, Jessica falls onto the bed exasperatedly, just missing Trish’s sleeping body.

*

She wakes to screams, jumping out of the bed at the terrifying sound and wincing when her movement pulls at the scabs and spots of dried blood that run across her abdomen.

“Jess!” It’s Trish, standing over the bed looking shocked, in an oversized shirt that Jessica thinks could be hers. “What the hell!”

“What?” Jessica scowls, climbing back onto the bed. “I was just sleeping.”

“Yeah.” Trish says, sarcastically. “Just sleeping  _in your own blood_!”

“What.” Pushing herself up, Jessica looks blearily down at the sheets to see the crusted blood across them. “Oh.” Frowning, she pulls her shirt over her head, hissing every time it pulls at where the blood has glued it onto her skin.

“Jess.” Trish has calmed down slightly, her worry now replaced with annoyance.  “You should clean yourself up  _before_ going to sleep.”

“I was  _tired_.” Jessica whines, pouting like a child.

Sighing, Trish lets a small smile drift onto her face. Looking down, she fiddles with the hem of her shirt. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Jessica says it with honesty.

“That’s okay.” Trish moves forwards, scrutinising the cuts across Jessica’s stomach. Sighing she looks up, placing a quick kiss on Jessica’s lips. “I’ll go get the first aid kit.”


	10. Because I love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trishica prompt: jessica and trish get in an argument over jessica's reckless ways to get things done and jessica asks why she cares and trish responds "because i love you!!!!!!"

“You need to stop this.” Trish is all rigid posture, propped against the side like a barbie doll. Her hair is slightly messy, her white blouse crinkled and she has a worried look on painted on her face.

Wrapping a tight bandage around her arm, Jessica winces. Her shirt is ruined, the blood crusted down it depleting her already limited wardrobe. Sheepishly, she looks up. “Come on Trish, it was just a flesh wound.” A small smile flickers across her lips, like the flame of a teacup candle trying to light a massive room.

“I’m putting my foot down.” Trish’s voice is dangerously calm, poison leaking in through the cracks. “No more violence.”

“I’m being a hero?” Jessica offers, though her body aches at her to listen to Trish. It’s in the bruises that are never given enough time to fade, her poorly reset bones whine with every step she takes and she has enough scar tissue to last a lifetime.  She should listen to Trish, she knows that.

“Jessica.” Trish snaps. “You’re being  _reckless._ ”

“Like you’re one to talk about reckless.” Jessica snaps back, immediately sealing her lips together, gluing them in a thin line of regret.

“What?” Trish’s voice wobbles, but it has the coldest edge to it. “ _I’m_ reckless?” She throws her arms out. “ _I’m_  not the one leaping off buildings and interrupting gunfights.”

“You’re just upset because I have the powers and you don’t!” Jessica shouts back, feeling the regret from earlier come flooding back as she mentally slaps herself for saying it.

Trish steps forwards, fists clenched. Her shoe clangs against the hardwood floor like a funeral bell. “You think I’m  _jealous?”_

“Well,” Jessica shrugs. “It’s the only reason I can think of as to why you’re acting like this.”

“Maybe I’m acting like this because I don’t like seeing you get hurt!” Tears spring to Trish’s eyes. “I’m not  _jealous_. Do you have any idea how  _awful_  it feels to watch your best friend come home bruised and beaten up? To sit in this empty apartment and not know whether you’ll come back! It hurts Jess, I can’t breathe when you’re gone out of fear that the last thing I ever said to you was ‘buy milk on the way home’”

Jessica breathes out slowly, shifting her gaze so that she’s looking out the window at the pastel horizon. Fidgeting, she picks at her fingers. “I can do what I want.”

“Jessica listen to me please.” Trish’s voice cracks. “Stop being so  _fucking_ irresponsible all the damn time. I don’t know why you do it, is it to punish yourself? Is it because of K…?” Trish stops, knowing she’s gone too far.

Looking up, Jessica meets Trish’s eyes with fury. “You know what? You don’t know half a damn thing about why I do anything! You shouldn’t want to know!”

“But I do!” Trish cries.

“Why?!”

“Because I love you!” Trish breathes heavily, in and out and in and out, her hands shaking. “I love you, okay? I always have, since you saved me that first time and all the times afterwards.”

Jessica stops, staring with her eyes glistening. They stay like that for a while, a film that’s stuck, frozen on the same picture, until she finally speaks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because…” Trish sighs. “I love you. I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

“I don’t want to lose you too.” Jess murmurs, shocked, and it’s not quite a declaration of love, but it’s close.

“The thing is Jess, when you go out, I get worried for you, I can’t help it. It’s like… when we were younger. And my mother used to- you know, and you couldn’t help but worry for me. It’s the same thing.” Trish says gently.

“I know.” Jessica replies, looking up. “I  _do_ know that Trish. And honestly I’m very tired, so I’ll tone the whole ‘reckless’ thing down a notch.” She looks up. “But that’s not to say I’ll stop it altogether. There are people in this city who need people like me, I can’t leave them alone. Just like I couldn’t leave you alone.”

“I get that.” Trish nods.

“And,” Jessica smiles. “I love you too.”

“Glad to hear it.”


	11. Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica gets injured and calls Trish to open her door. Trish automatically knows something happened cuz Jess never uses the front door. Trish takes care of a hurt Jessica and they share a bed together while Trish cuddles against jess.

Trish Walker is not one of those Friday night, off your face, party goers. She used to be, it was a nice form of escape, but now she doesn’t need to escape from anything in particular now, so, as Jessica would say, been there done that.

Friday nights are quiet now. Hours upon hours stretched out like the desert, empty and serene and so,  _so_ needed in the hectic life of a celebrity. Trish props her feet up on the table, closing her eyes halfway as the noise of the television blurs into the background. Sometimes Jessica joins her, but, in true Jessica style, she never says when, so it’s up to Trish to always be prepared for the moment she leaps up onto the balcony, making an entrance like she always does.

Tonight doesn’t seem like one of those nights though. It’s eight o clock and the whole city is tired; cars lazily drifting past as lights seem to slowly go to sleep in their windows. The sky is dark and stormy, rumbling snores out across the skyline.

The door buzzes, an interruption into the sleepy haze of the apartment and, grumbling, Trish stands up to answer it.

Sighing, she pushes the button. “Hello?”

“Trish.” Jessica’s voice hisses through the speaker. “Can you let me in?”

Unlocking the door immediately, Trish answers. “Sure. Why are you using the front door, you never use the front…” She trails off as Jessica storms in, all fury and stone faced as she holds blood covered hands to her stomach. “Oh my god what happened!?”

“Some assholes tried to mug me.” Jessica grunts, hauling herself up so she’s sitting on the island in the middle of Trish’s kitchen. “Their mistake obviously.”

Trish cocks an eyebrow at the red oozing from between Jessica’s fingers. “…Obviously.”

“Ha.” Jessica spits. “You should see the other guys.”

“I don’t care about the other guys.” Trish kicks back into action, all disappointment at her Friday night being interrupted completely diminished as she search for her first aid kit. She finds it, her hands scrambling against the tattered material as she flips the lid which has ‘Jessica’s accident cleaner upper’ scrawled across it lovingly in red pen. “What do you need?”

“Just some bandages.” Jessica shrugs. “Those idiots managed to skim me with a switchblade, hence the blood.”

“A switchblade!?” Trish exclaims, before waving it off. “You know what? Never mind. I’m going to wipe it with some antiseptic wipes first okay.”

“Sure.” Jessica grits her teeth, removing her hands from her stomach and lifting up her shirt to reveal the damage.

“Jess…” Trish sighs exasperatedly. “That’s not ‘skimming you with a knife’, that’s a stab wound.”

Jessica rolls her eyes. “Potato, po-tah-to.”          

Worryingly, Trish bites her bottom lip. “It probably needs stitches.”

“Can you do it?” It’s the most sincere Jessica’s been since she walked in through the door. “I trust you more than any doctor.”

Thinking it through, Trish nods. “Okay, but it’s going to hurt.”

*

“You were right.” Jessica chuckles, lying down on Trish’s bed. “That  _did_ hurt.”

“I’m always right.” Trish smiles smugly. “But I’m tired now, you can sleep here.”

“No it’s fine.” Jessica moves to get up. “I’ll take the couch.”

“No.” Trish stops her. “Don’t get up you might break your stitches.”

“Well I doubt I’ll-”

“Also.” Trish cuts Jessica off. “I was really worried about you today… I’d like it if you stayed with me.”

“Well.” Jessica smirks. “If you wanted to sleep next to me all you had to do was ask.”

Turning over, Trish grumbles into her pillow. “Shut up.”

“Do you want me to spoon you?” Jessica teases.

Trish knows that it’s a joke, but her mind contemplates it anyway. “…Yes.”

Shocker by the answer, Jessica lies down next to Trish, wrapping her arm around her. Shuffling backwards, Trish makes herself comfortable against Jessica’s warm body. They lie in silence for a bit, before Jessica whispers. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Always.” Trish replies.


	12. PTSD sucks ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Jessica sleeps on Trish's couch when they come back from the station and Trish awakes for water to find Jessica sitting down & whispering street names to herself

“Seriously.” Trish tucks the blanket around Jessica. “Get some rest, it’s over now.”

Jessica nods. Her hands are shaky and cold and she can’t look at them without feeling the crunch of bones underneath them. She wants to vomit,  _it’s over, it’s over, it’s over._ Her heart is pounding loudly, having not slowed since the moment Trish walked over to Killgrave, and she wants nothing more than to be able to lie down and close her eyes, finally.

Trish leaves with a kiss to the forehead and Jessica briefly wonders about that too. The “I love you” opened so many doors that they’d only ever peered through before and she doesn’t know what that means. She’s not sure if Trish knows either.

If she lies in the dark long enough, she’ll eventually go to sleep. Darkness suffocates the room sickeningly, only disturbed by city lights creeping in through the window, creating shadows that look ten times bigger than they actually are. Jessica’s blanket is itchy, irritating her skin and making her want to scratch and scratch at her body until she pulls any remainder of Killgrave off herself.

She breathes irregularly, trying her best to shut her eyes without images flooding her brain. It doesn’t work. Hope stands in her vision, dead and lifeless her eyes bulging out her socket and she twitches, picking at the dried blood flowing from the gaping flesh of her neck.

“Jessica.” The voice comes from somewhere in her mind, floating next to Hopes dead body. “You really thought it would be that  _easy!_ ” He appears suddenly, at the forefront of Jessica’s vision, making her heart stop for a minute. His laugh echoes around her brain and he’s gone again.

“I thought I taught you better than that Jessica.” He’s there again, stroking his disgusting fingers down Hope’s face, and Jessica watches in fear as her flesh disintegrates with his touch.  

“Wake up.” This time it’s her own voice. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” Street names. “Higgins Street. Birch Street.” Jessica opens her eyes to see Trish in front of her.

“Jessica.” Trish looks her in the eyes. “Take deep breaths.”

Gulping in air, Jessica pushes forwards, burying her face in Trish’s shoulder. Slowly, Trish brings her arms up to wrap around Jessica’s back. “Do you want to come sleep in my bed?”

Rationally, Jessica knows that they’ve crossed some kind of invisible line since the last time they slept in a bed together, but she thinks of Killgrave and Hope and nods quickly. “Yes.”

“Come on then.” Trish yawns, helping Jessica to her feet, half carrying her to the bedroom.

“What time is it?” Now that the shock of Killgrave is out of her system, momentarily, Jessica lets her world become bleary with tiredness, watching as the colours of the curtains and the walls all blend together.

“2am.” Trish answers. “Don’t worry about waking me, I was up to get a glass of water anyway.”

“I wasn’t worried.” Jessica jokes weakly, and Trish shoots her a small smile in return as she pulls back the covers on her bed.

“Come on.” Trish pats the mattress and Jessica complies, tucking herself underneath the sheets and listening to Trish’s soft steps on the carpet as she makes her way around to get into her side. Trish always sleeps on the left side of the bed.

“Thank you.” Jessica murmurs.

“It’s no problem.” Trish answers, flicking off the light. “I never said it back, on the docks, but I love you too.”

Turning over, Jessica smiles into the darkness. “Really?”

“No I’m just kidding.” Sarcasm drips through Trish’s words, before she reassures. “Of course I love you Jess, how could I not? Now go to sleep, god knows you deserve it.”

“Okay.” Closing her eyes, Jessica smiles contentedly, as her legs press slightly against Trish’s and she falls into a deep sleep.

 


	13. Just yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica/Trish: Trish asks Jessica, "you just had to be a hero, didn't you?" to which Jessica replies, "no, just yours" before passing out from an injury or from being drunk. Fluff at the end, possibly?

Her side is throbbing like Morse code, sending a signal of pain throughout her body. It echoes in her head with the sound of her heartbeat as she gasps for air. “Trish!”

“I’m right here.” The voice comes from above her, and Jessica thinks briefly that she could’ve died because Trish is the closest to an angel she’ll ever get.

“The gun.” Jessica groans. “Where is it?” The pounding in her head is louder, an oncoming death sentence drum roll.

“On the floor.” Kneeling down next to Jessica, Trish places her hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”

Jessica grits her teeth, biting through the pain. “I’m fine. Are  _you_  okay?” Her heart is threatening to rip out of her chest.

“Yes!” Trish asserts, before softening her tone. “I’m fine Jess, you saved my life. You’re bleeding though. Quite badly.” She hesitates. “I’m going to get you to a hospital okay?”

“No. I’m fine.” Jessica repeats, the oozing of her gunshot wound contradicting her weak words.

“You don’t look it.” Trish shakes her head, a small smile breaking through the worry on her face. “You just had to be the hero didn’t you.”

The pounding in Jessica’s head is unbearable now, and she manages to choke out. “No, just yours.” Before everything fades to black.

*

The soft beeping of a machine creeps into Jessica’s head and she stirs gently, the smell of cleaning product filling her nose. Slowly, she opens her eyes.

Everything is white, sterilised and untainted and Jessica squints at the war that the bright lights have decided to play on her vision.

“Jess!” The voice comes from around the other side of the room and Jessica turns, seeing an exhausted looking Trish rush towards her. Closing her eyes again, Jessica mumbles drowsily. “Trish. Did you bring me here?”

“Yes.” Trish admits, her breath fast turning into a ramble. “I’m sorry it’s just, you were hurt pretty bad and losing a lot of blood. I had to do something…”

Gazing up at Trish, Jessica smiles. “You saved my life too.”

“I-” Trish squints, slowly kneeing down at the side of the bed. “I did.”

“Thank you.” It’s so sincere that Trish feels her heart melt a little in the luminescent hospital room.

“It’s okay.” Leaning forwards, Trish paces a soft kiss on Jessica’s forehead.

There’s a small moment of silence before Jessica grins teasingly. “You’re my  _hero_ , Patricia Walker.”

Scoffing, Trish conceals her smile with a strict tone. “Oh shut up and get some rest.”


	14. Starlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jessica x trish - trish and jess are drunk and having fun and in love and jessica sings a love song to trish and its so cheesy and fluffy (whichever song you want)

They’re talking, sitting on the hardwood floor of their apartment as the afternoon sun sinks into the glowing clouds and an old radio croons songs melodically out of its speakers.

“You know I love you right?” Jessica smiles hazily, the empty bottles of beer surrounding them suggesting that maybe she’s had one too many.

Trish is golden in the light, her eyes shining like the sun on the bottom of a swimming pool and her lips full as she smiles. “I know Jess.”

“And you know.” Jessica holds up a finger, as if it is helping her get her point across in some way. “That on a scale of one to ten, you are the best girlfriend ever.”

Amused, Trish raises an eyebrow. “On a scale of one to ten?” Her voice is teasing, dragging up the corners of her lips into a smirk.

Nodding with a proud grin plastered on her face, Jessica confirms. “Uh huh.”

“Jess…” Trish shakes her head, chuckling softly.

“What.” Jessica’s attention is caught like a butterfly in a net, her gaze meeting Trish’s inquisitively. Her eyes change as she looks into the light, morphing into a softer brown, the harshness taken away at the edges.

“I love y-”

“Ooh turn it up!” Cutting off Trish, Jessica darts towards the radio, cranking up the volume. Clumsily, she begins to sing along. “ _What a marvellous tune, it was the best night never would forget how we moved.”_

“Oh my god.” Trish bursts into laughter. “Is this Taylor Swift.”

Ignoring her, Jessica clambers to her feet, pointing wildly at Trish as she shouts the lyrics. “ _And we were dancing, dancing! Like we’re made of starlight.”_

“You know,” Trish smiles. “You’re really ruining your badass reputation here.”

“Come on Trish!” Jessica holds out her hands. “You’re gonna miss it.”

With an amused sigh, Trish takes Jessica’s hands and allows herself to be pulled off the floor. “Miss what?” She scoffs, rolling her eyes fondly.

Pulling Trish in close Jess croons. “ _I met Bobby on the boardwalk, summer of ‘45_ ” She twirls Trish around. “ _Picked me up late one night, out the window, we were seventeen and crazy, running wild.”_

Trish giggles as Jessica pushes her back, holding out her hands dramatically. “ _Can’t remember what song it was playing when we walked in.”_ Jumping onto the couch, Jessica grins, pointing at Trish again. “ _The night we snuck into a yacht club party, pretending to be a duchess and a prince.”_

Billows of dust fog into the air around Jessica as she jumps on the couch cushions, dancing to the beat of the song. Her hair blows out around her, catching the light. “ _And I said oh my.”_ She grins at Trish _. “What a marvellous tune.”_  Picking up the television remote, she holds it to her mouth like a microphone and Trish snorts at the picture.  _“It was the best night never would forget how we moved.”_

Stepping down from the couch, Jessica keeps singing, slightly breathless.  _“The whole place was dressed to the nines and we were dancing, dancing…”_ She trails off, letting the radio carry on happily without her.

“Are you done?” Trish smiles amusedly, moving towards Jessica.

Smirking, Jessica shakes her head, darting forwards and grabbing Trish by the waist. Swaying enthusiastically to the upbeat tune, Jessica murmurs.  _“Don’t you see the starlight, stralight? Don’t you dream impossible things?”_

A feeling of serenity washes over Trish, and the song in the background fades to nothing as she rests her head on Jessica’s shoulder gently, letting the distant melody flood through her body like molten gold. As they sway softly, Trish murmurs. “You know that I love you right?”

Knowingly, Jessica smiles, placing a kiss on top of Trish’s blonde hair. “I know.”


	15. Alternative endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> could you write a little prompt where jessica and trish are kissing? maybe as like a re-written ending to the series after jessica had just told trish she loves her and she'd killed kilgrave?

“I love you.” It’s so plain and simple, the three words blowing through the night shrouded docks with the wind. Killgrave smiles, for one second blinded by his arrogance, before frowning and turning to look at Trish with his brow furrowed in confusion. It’s too late, the moment’s hesitation allowing Jessica to grab at him and everyone on the docks knows what’s going to happen.

She breaks his neck with a loud crack, echoing a sense of finality, like a hammer striking an auction table. There’s a comfort, Trish thinks, in the sounds of his bones breaking, reminding her that he was in fact  _human._ She can still taste him on her mouth, feel the numbness of her lips where they touched his and she wants nothing more than to scrub at her teeth until her gums bleed.

Jessica drops Killgrave to the ground, his body limp, and looks up, hands shaking, across at where Trish stands shivering. “I-” She utters.

Feeling her senses come back to her, Trish rushes back into action, running across to Jessica, letting the cold air lash at her cheeks and crawl into her throat. “Jess!”

Jessica looks exhausted, as if she’s finally let the tiredness of the past few weeks reach her in a twisted relay race, yet she keeps her eyes trained on Trish. “I love you.” She repeats again, feeling the words on her tongue.

Reaching Jessica, Trish takes her hand, letting their arms dangle between them. There’s a beat of silence. Quietly, water laps at the harbour wall. Jessica’s eyes are so full of relief and love and Trish thinks that, in a twisted way, this moment is almost perfect. Jessica’s hand finds its way onto her waist, lingering for any kind of signal and, ever so slightly, Trish nods.

It’s enough. With a hint of a smile printed on her face, Jessica moves forwards, so that their noses are almost touching, so that Trish can smell her cheap shampoo. Hesitating, Jessica stays for a few seconds, just breathing, as if to reassure herself that Trish is actually there.

Growing impatient, Trish moves forwards, connecting their lips in the gentlest kiss. Jessica’s lips are soft and warm, comforting and loving and Trish pulls her forwards with their adjoined hands.

Jessica’s hand curls ever so slightly around her waist as she pushes back into the kiss, opening her mouth a little and pressing her body into Trish. She feels Trish gradually lift her hand up and delicately touch the side of her face.

Trish’s lips are magic, making Jessica’s tingle with love and an insatiable want for more. Slowly, Jessica pulls back, keeping her eyes closed and resting her forehead against Trish’s, smiling in time to their beating hearts.

Trish smiles breathlessly. “I love you too.”

Grinning, Jessica leans back in for another kiss.


	16. Dirty little secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> could you write something where Trish and Jessica have like a secret relationship, they have sneaky quick make out sessions in the school toilets/ quick kisses behind Dorothy's back or something. anything will do tbh, thank you!

“Shh.” Her voice is persistent, giggly and airy as she clamps her shining lips together and tries not to laugh, her blonde hair falling in messy strands across her flustered face.

Jessica listens to the sound of footsteps tread slowly by, grinning at the feeling of her heart in her throat as if it’s a game to see how far she can push it. Leaning forwards, she places a kiss on Trish’s neck, and feels Trish sigh loudly. The footsteps stop suspiciously outside the bedroom door and Trish bites down on her lip as Jessica plants another kiss, and another, and another, down to her collarbone. “Jess…” She breathes, only feeling the fire burning through her at every contact of lips to her sensitive skin.

“Yeah?” Jess looks up, smiling innocently, her lips shimmering in the dim light.

Suspended in silence, Trish listens intently, her breath stuck in her throat. Gradually, the footsteps move on. Grinning, Trish looks at Jessica, wickedness adorning her face like makeup. “Never mind, carry on.”

*

Dorothy turns around to open the fridge and, when the metal door obscures the view, Trish places a soft kiss on Jessica’s lips. Narrowing her eyes, Jessica smiles.

“Patricia, you’re not having breakfast today.” Dorothy declares, ignoring Jessica like she usually does and focusing nothing but scorning horror onto Trish. “You’ve been getting chubby lately.”

Jessica doesn’t think Trish has been getting chubby. Jessica thinks that if she could catch the way sunlight pours through a canopy of leaves on an orange summer evening, it would only be half as beautiful as Trish. She doesn’t say anything.

Turning around, Dorothy picks up a fashion magazine off the table and, as she does, Jessica moves over to Trish, wrapping her hands around her waist and trying to convey how beautiful she really is into a kiss. Their lips melt together and they fall into each other rhythmically.

As Dorothy spins back around, Jessica pretends to find a certain part of the countertop very interesting and Trish sucks her lips in in a concealed smile.

*

The school corridors are empty, and Trish hurries her feet along the horrifically patterned floor with the pace of a machine. She’s late for class. Again. Her goddamn mother wanted her at a goddamn photoshoot and that was that. She huffs as she pulls her binder closer to her chest, her shoes clapping out a steady beat as she walks. Her education obviously isn’t important at all, her mother made that perfectly clear. Suddenly, she finds herself being pulled sideways awkwardly, until she’s tumbling into the girl’s toilets. Jessica smiles sheepishly from a cubicle door, causing Trish to sigh. “Jess.” She mutters. “I have to go to class.”

Ignoring her, Jessica steps forwards. “Can I kiss you?” She always does this. She knows that, if she wants, Trish will let her kiss her until their lips are bruised and their hearts are melded into one. But Jessica still asks, the words falling pleasantly out of her mouth and it’s not needed, but Trish craves the way Jessica’s eyes leak gold as she allows Trish to take the tender request into her heart. It’s nice.

“Okay.” Trish breathes, forgetting the photoshoot and class and her mother. “If you want.”

“I really do.” Jessica smiles softly, moving closer and hooking her fingers around Trish’s belt loops, pulling her into the toilet cubicle and connecting their lips.


	17. I can't risk you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica gets really worried for something that happened to Trish. They're already a couple and something bad happens to Trish that makes Jessica realize that she can't live without that blondie dork.

Jessica’s away when Trish almost dies. In fucking Ohio, chasing down a lead that went  _way_ too far and she’s not usually this invested in her work but there’s a big reward and, after all, booze costs money.

Trish also costs money. Not in a requirement way, but in the way that Jessica loves how her eyes light up like a swimming pool in summer as she unwraps a well thought out present or they enter a fancy restaurant. Jessica likes spending money on her girlfriend, as everyone does.

She’s thinking about Trish like always, her strawberry shampoo and the way she bites the skin on her thumb when she’s nervous. When she gets the giggles and can’t stop laughing until Jessica is laughing too, and then they’re both doomed, stomachs hurting and red faced, on the floor feeling absolutely  _weightless_ as they roar with happiness. She’s thinking about the depth of Trish’s crystal eyes and the way her hair reflects summer, when she gets the phone call.

“Hello?” She holds the phone to her ear, the sun reflecting in the screen as she brings it up to her face.

_“Is this Jessica Jones?”_

“This is she.” Jessica frowns. “Who’s asking?”

“ _You’re written as the emergency contact for Patricia Walker. There’s been an accident.”_

Jessica is already on her feet at the word accident, her blood racing through her like vomit and a light headed feeling as she rushes to her car.

*

She burst through the hospital doors in a flurry of panic, her hands shaking as she enters the sterilised world of polished people and white coats. A nurse greets her, trying to calm down the racing heart and dry mouth with soothing words that Jessica quickly files into her bullshit folder. She gets directed to Trish soon enough, due to a short temper and a few broken pens. Intimidation usually works.

As she pushes through the heavy room doors, the fear hits her. It goes for her throat first, winding her completely and causing swelling that will never go down before it attacks at her stomach and slowly eats its way up to her heart. Taking a deep breath, she slowly pushes the door open.

Trish looks at her as she walks in, smiling slightly. Her face is bruised down the left side, and her leg is in a white cast that blends in with the walls of the hospital room. “Jess.” She croaks.

Letting out a whoosh of air, Jessica feels faint. “You’re okay?”

Trish grins. “Vaguely.”

“I just.” Jessica feels her heart catch in her throat. “I got the call about the crash and-” she blinks away tears. “I don’t know what I would do if you… were gone. I wouldn’t be able to go on.”

“Jess.” Trish sounds heartbroken as Jessica looks at the floor. “Come here.”

Slowly, Jessica makes her way over to Trish and wraps her hands gently around her. Trish kisses her on top of the head. “I’ll always be here.”

Jessica sniffs. “I love you so much.”

Humming, Trish smiles. “I love you too.” She reaches for something, the bedside table cluttering as she does. “Also,” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice now, it’s almost dangerous. “Check out what my bed can do.” She presses a button and the bed starts to fold in half, crushing Jessica.

Laughing, Jessica lets love wash over her like the sea onto golden sand. “You are such a child!”


	18. Be mine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trishica prompt: Jessica asking Trish if she wants to be official

“So, are we like, girlfriends?” Jessica says, one day over dinner. The spaghetti twirls around her fork in an endless spiral and she tries to shove it all in her mouth, as Trish watches with a bemused expression.

“Not if you eat like that.” Trish teases, eating a forkful of pasta herself.

Sticking out her tongue, Jessica shines. Her hair is shiny, falling softly in dark strands to her shoulders. Her brown eyes glitter with laughter as she slurps her sauce disgustingly, knowing it annoys Trish.

“Be careful.” Trish jokes. “Wouldn’t want to get any sauce on your precious leather jacket.”

“Uh huh.” Jessica smiles, swallowing her mouthful. “Trish Walker, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Hmm.” Trish raises an immaculate eyebrow, her blue eyes dancing to the city lights outside the window. “Ask nicely.”

Jokingly, Jessica gets down on one knee. “Will you _please_ do me the honour of being my girlfriend?”

Laughing, Trish leans down to where Jessica is knelt, her blonde hair curtaining her face as she does, softly, she kisses Jessica’s lips. “Sure.”

“Good.”


	19. Puppy love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jess knows trish has always wanted a puppy and since they saved up and bought a new house together she can finally give her one. it’s christmas morning and trish comes downstairs to a puppy with a ribbon around its neck, jess pretends to dislike the dog but trish catches her cuddling with the puppy and telling it how much she loves trish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These titles are getting cheesy now...

A few weeks after the bathroom incident, after a promise was broken but two hearts were slowly fixed in the process, Dorothy forgets to pick Trish and Jessica up from school.

It’s no big deal, she’s done it before and she’ll do it again – Dorothy Walker only cares about a few things, the main one being herself and a less important one being a discount on “sunset shine” hair dye.

Anyway, she leaves Jessica and Trish behind, on a Tuesday afternoon in winter as the sun collapses into the clouds on the horizon out of sheer exhaustion. They sit on the school steps for an hour before giving up, Jessica’s bum growing numb from the cold, salmon coloured stone, and Trish’s hands starting to shake in the decreasing temperature, her knuckles turning blue.

“Let’s just walk.” Jessica suggests, heaving herself off the solid ground. “It’s almost dark anyway, if we get too tired I can always… jump.”

“Okay.” Trish beams, her face lighting up like a star through a telescope, pretty and untouchable and burning so brightly. Linking her arm through Jessica’s, she whispers. “Lead the way.”

Jessica flushes against the crisp air, contrasting the cold sky so effortlessly, and starts walking.

When they have to stop every five minutes so that Trish can smile at people hurrying to get home to their warm houses, log fires and television shows, bending down to pet each dog, Jessica can’t let herself be annoyed.

*

They finally did it. Moved out and away. Left their demons behind, locked in a closet with bruises and clothes that don’t fit them anymore as they fled. For Trish it was easy, good riddance to bad rubbish, starting new and building herself up again.

Jessica doesn’t really care either way, as long as Trish is with her.

Their apartment is a sanctuary. Dorothy doesn’t know its whereabouts and neither does anyone else apart from them yet. It’s their secret garden, the walls like ten foot hedges to keep out unwanted guests and the curtains like vines trailing down the extraordinary city view out the window.

It’s Christmas Eve and Trish insisted they hung their stockings up by the television, even going as far as to buy them a cheap plastic tree and set it up in the corner, hastily decorated with tinsel that got stuck in Jessica’s hair and wrapped around her heart. Lights hang crookedly from each corner of each room, stringing along and illuminating the walls a warm yellow colour and even if it looks tacky, it still feels like  _theirs._

However, at two o clock in the morning, when Jessica has snuck out of bed into the blistering streets of New York City in the early hours of Christmas to pick up the last Christmas present for Trish, she doesn’t stop to think about how pretty their apartment is.

No. Instead she’s thinking about how she deserves a whole yule log after this. The puppy in her hands yaps as it awakens and Jessica stills, waiting for any sign that Trish has woken up. Silence. She sighs, moving forwards.

The puppy falls to sleep soon enough. It’s a golden retriever, tiny with its head tucked between its little paws in Jessica’s hands, its eyes closed and snoring gently. She can’t deny that it’s cute.

Trish has always loved dogs, from the moment that they walked home that one evening, taking twenty more minutes than usual, to this day. Jessica had to give her this, after everything they’ve been through.

Quietly and carefully, Jessica ties the puppies leash around the bottom of the couch leg, before slumping back into bed next to Trish.

*

He’s named Digby and Jessica’s pretty sure that Trish loves him more than her.

(She knows that’s not true but she likes being dramatic.)

He’s bouncy and fluffy and an absolute joy but Jessica scowls every time he walks into the room or sits on the couch or, god forbid, sleeps in their bed.

Trish loves Digby. She loves him because he resembles her and Jessica and freedom, but also because he’s a small furball of happiness and he likes simple things like chasing sticks and whenever Trish says Digby in a low pitched voice. She’s pretty sure Jessica loves him too, but she never catches her actively doing so.

Trish wakes up late, the sun has already risen into the sky and is attempting to shine down, though persistent clouds block its way like traffic lights and it doesn’t quite reach all the way through. She sits up in bed, Jessica’s spot long since abandoned, and rubs her bleary eyes, before standing up and plodding to the kitchen.

As she goes to make her morning coffee, out of routine rather than out of necessity, a noise drifts in from the living room, like a boat coming in on a calm ocean.

Instinctively, Trish wanders towards the noise. Turning the corner, she sees Digby stretched out on the floor. He’s gotten bigger since Christmas, and his ears are floppy as he lies on his back, paws stretched out into the air as if he is walking some upside down invisible tightrope. Jessica sits rubbing his belly with enthusiasm, smiling and teasing and Trish doesn’t want to interrupt.

Jessica looks carefree, cooing like grandmas would coo at babies and grinning like a child with a water balloon. “Who’s a good boy Digby? Who’s a good boy?!”

Digby wags his windscreen wiper tail.

“You know.” Jessica smirks. “You’re not so bad at all. I can see why Trish loves you so much.” She absentmindedly strokes his ears. “I love her you know, Trish that is. She’s wonderful.”

Tongue lolling, Digby looks at Jessica. “I know.” Jessica pouts. “You love her too. Who doesn’t?”

“I knew it!” Trish’s heart is warm and tingly as she appears from around the corner. She feels like a hot air balloon that could fly forever. “You do like him.”

Smiling sheepishly, Jessica shrugs. “He’s not so bad. Smells a bit, but then, so do you.”

“That’s not what you said a minute ago.” Trish grins devilishly.

Cheeks flushing, Jessica looks down. “Oh, you heard that?”

“Yep.” Trish s still smiling, letting Jessica writhe for a few moments before setting her free. “Don’t worry Jess, I love you too.” Digby jumps up at her. “And Digby.” She adds on, stroking the retriever softly on the head and letting love fill her completely.


	20. Subtlety at it's finest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trish x Jessica: Trish is turned on and grumpy in public and Jessica is having fun with it all

Trish sits at the fancy table with the fancy people. The table cloth is pearl white, lined intricately with gold swirls and smothering the polished brown table beneath. She has a glass of glittering champagne, unfamiliar in her seventeen year old hands as she sits, back straightened to perfection and feet flat on the wooden floor, listening to some crusty old man rattle on about politics as his wrinkled fingers tap tap tap on his trousers.

Smiling is beginning to hurt her cheeks, but she can’t stop. Dorothy watches her like a bodyguard from two seats away, narrowed eyes and made up face, as controlling as ever. Separating them is Jessica. Honestly, Trish can’t figure out why Dorothy makes Jessica come to these things, all she does is sulk, black hair curtaining her face as she looks down, stubbornly tracing her fingers across the tablecloth and sticking out her bottom lip.

The man continues to talk. His voice is like gravel in a blender, loud and impractical and it’s beginning to hurt Trish’s ears a little. She hears her name, well, her stage name. “What?” She looks up.

Dorothy glares at her with the heat of a boiled kettle and Trish corrects herself. “Pardon?”

“I said.” The man looks slightly annoyed. “Are you enjoying yourself Patsy?”

 _No,_  Trish thinks,  _it’s incredibly boring._ “Yes.” She attempts to widen the plastic smile on her face.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Jessica turn to look at her, a small smirk playing on her face. She ignore her, in favour of being polite, using her P’s and Q’s and all that jazz as she plasters a fake personality over herself for the audience to see.

“So, I heard some rumours about a movie?” The man grins. “What about it?”

Trish’s stomach turns, contorts into bile and acid as she thinks about extending the already haunting franchise from her childhood. “I um,” Comfortingly, Jessica plants a hand on her knee, and she calms a little. “I’m not sure about-”

Dorothy’s voice, sharp and icy, cuts through Trish’s mumbled answer. “Let me take this one for you Gregory…” She continues on into a blur of high pitched nattering and Trish zones it out.

Slowly, Jessica’s hand makes its way from her knee to her inner thigh. Swallowing, Trish side glances her, but she’s still slouching, looking down at the table with disinterest as her hand slithers craftily like a snake under the table. “Is this okay.” Jessica breathes, like a breeze over the dinner table. No one else heard. Trish nods, ever so slightly.

Her hand moves slightly. It’s a promise, a message of want and a tantalising tease of what’s about to happen.

Becoming flustered, Trish bites her lip as Jessica’s hand dances its way upwards, every brush tickling as if Trish’s thigh is a piano playing a melody. Slowly but surely, she melts like an icecap, hot and growing more and more frustrated by the torturing way Jessica’s hand seems to skim her crotch before waltzing back swiftly.

Gently, Jessica presses down, through Trish jeans, and Trish lets out a small gasp, like the first breath of air in a new world. Leaning forwards, Jessica’s lips linger tauntingly by Trish’s ear. “You’re not subtle.” She whispers, before retracting her hand, leaving Trish with the sense of loss you get when you realise you’ll never be able to finish a story.

“Dessert!” A cheery waiter holds a silver platter of chocolate sundaes.

Trish wishes. Her legs tremble softly under the table and she smiles weakly at the waiter. “No thanks.” Dorothy’s little nod of approval makes her want to eat all of them.

Her hands are still heavy, her breath still laboured, and she feels aroused, liquid gold heat running through her bloodstream. As she crosses her uncomfortable legs under the table, Trish catches Jessica’s smirk, a dessert spoon planted firmly between her red lips as she raises her eyebrows.

 _Subtle my ass._ Trish moves her hand over.


	21. You have saved me so many times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica finds out that Trish made a deal with her (still) abusive/manipulative mom in order to find info about IGH and the origin of Jessica's abilities.

“You did what!” Jessica shouts. The file is clutched in her hand, crinkled around her fingers like clay and her hands crumble beneath the grain.

“My mother-” Trish starts, small and timid and stuck like a heart as she mumbles her way through another explanation.

“No!” Jessica bleeds betrayal onto the floor of the apartment. “We’ve worked so hard to get her out.” Her voice quietens. “Please Trish, remember last time.”

“This isn’t like last time.” Trish snaps, her voice coming out sharp and harsh as she snatches back the file from Jessica’s hands, bypassing her super strength like she always does. Jessica doesn’t use her powers on Trish, not even now. “Now it’s for you.”

“What.” Jessica spits venom. “Don’t try and put this on me Trish, you’re doing this for you.”

“I’m doing it.” Trish steps forwards. “Because you have saved me so many time Jess, I can’t even begin to repay you.”

Looking down, Jessica frowns. “You don’t have to.” The apartment is like a blanket, suffocating them, separating the outside world and making everything eerily quiet. Their hearts echo like poetry, soft and sad and perfectly in time to a made up beat.

“I  _want_ to.” Trish smiles, a small twist of the lips that contorts her face. “I love you Jess.”

Jessica wants more than anything for Trish not to do this. She would rather get down on her knees, let the world kick her in the face and watch her teeth fall like dominos. But Trish loves and Trish wants so Jessica  _does._  “I love you too.” Taking the file again, softly, she sighs. “Let’s get started then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey if you want to come and give me a prompt or something hit me up @ trishicatrash.tumblr.com


End file.
